


Wildflowers in your hair

by Pangolinia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangolinia/pseuds/Pangolinia
Summary: On some days even the grumpiest swordsman needs some comfort. Fortunately, Bernadetta has an idea.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	Wildflowers in your hair

_ Whack! _ The sword hit the shaft of Bernadetta's lance with brute force as she parried another violent blow. The wood creaked and groaned in painful alarm as the blade scraped along its surface. A portentous sign that it was on the verge of breaking if she failed to stay vigilant. Fortunately, the flexible material bent under this immense pressure and prevented the wood from splintering.

However, vibrations travelled along the length, transforming her spear into a slippery snake. With her hands covered in perspiration, the petite noble sensed the shaft slipping away. Before long, the waves seized the arms and railed through her, shaking her core. It didn't take long till Bernadetta's teeth began to chatter so loud that everyone would be able to overhear the sound. Regardless of the circumstances, Bernadetta managed to regain control.

In an attempt to flee from her opponent's onslaughts, Bernadetta slid sideways. Golden sand crunched under her feet as she quickly took a few steps backwards. In the hope of some respite, Bernatteda slowly circled the stern man in front of her. As expected, Felix showed no signs of physical exhaustion despite having multiple mock battles before this one. His eyes, glowing like plates of polished gold in the dazzling sunlight, followed the way of her feet as he casually changed to a defensive stance.

Meanwhile, Bernadetta's scarce stamina began to forsake her. The girl's chest heaved heavy, and her breath whistled like an old teapot. Her clothes drenched in sweat clung uncomfortably onto her. Frankly, the thought of turning and running away crossed her mind briefly. However, people cheered for her from the sidelines. People that Bernadetta refused to let down.

'You can do this, Bernie!'  _ Annie _ , Bernadetta recognized her room neighbour as the mage's high-pitched voice filled the populated training ground. As Annette jumped in excitement, her orange hair bounced up and down, lashing against her round cheeks. With a self-composed song, the mirthful girl continued encouraging Bernadetta.

Then, a few others joined in, most prominent Hilda. With a provocative purr on her dawn-tinted lips, she tried unnerving Bernadetta's adversary. Honestly, Felix had it coming to him. Everyone knew the swordsman's cantankerous attitude, but today he was more belligerent, a trifle testily. Furiously, the noble had crushed all of his opponents like training dummies. No mercy, no sympathy, no compassion. Only cynical and mocking remarks on his lips. And Hilda was one of them.

'Come on, Bernie. Show that grumpy cat how a defeat tastes.' Then, she continued to purr and meow. In imitation of a beckoning cat, Hilda held up her hands. Her palms faced upwards, and she repeatedly folded her fingers down and back. Manicured nails shone in the sun, ready to strike. After a short time, Claude cheerfully assisted her.

'Yeah, show his grouchy fluffiness your strength,  _ Bernie Bear _ .' Claude accentuated the last part with that notorious wink of his. It had something playful and lithe, layered with seductiveness that made her knees grow weak. Under the prevailing circumstances, that was certainly of no help. Strangely enough, the tactician directed the gesture towards Felix.

_ Stay focused, Bernie! _ , the nervous girl reciprocated in her head. Felix stared for a moment longer. No, he glared at the tanned noble with an intensity that would make Bernadetta faint with her eyes wide open. In imitated fear, Claude ducked behind Lysithea for cover, blowing Bernadetta a kiss. With one last threatening glimpse, her opponent decided to resume the fight and gradually approached her.

'No! Stay away!' Her spear jabbed forward with a sinister hiss. She had aimed for Felix's feet, but the puissant swordsman succeeded to slip his blade under her lance and rammed it aside. With his free hand, he tried gaining hold of her spear but slipped off. Capitalizing on the momentum of Felix's failed tactical gambit, Bernadetta's body whirled around.

In a dash, the girl was behind him. As she lifted the spear, she loosened the grip just a little bit. Her lance darted forward with the speed of one of her arrows. Alas, the truncated tip wasn't as unerring as her bow. She missed his shoulder by an inch, the power of her spear dragging her forward, right into her assailant's arms.

A split second later, Bernadetta's face crushed into Felix's chest. Filigree fingers, her fingers she realized bewildered, curled into his shirt, and twisted the soaked fabric. She could feel his heart pound, thunderously, from the exertion. And the recluse could smell him. The sophisticated combination of fresh citrus and dark ripe, earthy vetiver enveloped her like a blanket. Its warm and luminous accents made her feel comfortable, welcomed one to cuddle closer. A treacherous delusion, indeed. Would the scent linger, the recluse wondered. Would it be ingrained into her clothes, her hair, her mind?

Single drops of Felix's sweat trickled down his chin. They landed on her neck, meandered along her throat, and mingled with her own on their path down. Cheekily, the salty liquid slipped under her shirt, but the thought was too sensual to ponder any further. And the heat, the heat was unbearable where their bodies collided. Had Felix cast a reason spell on her? Bernadetta's skin prickled as if thousands of thunderbolts ran through her. With her blood rushing in her ears, breath rumbling through the girl, she dared not to take a peek at Felix's face.  _ Oh, Bernie, what have you done? Now he will despise you for discrediting him in front of everyone! Stupid, hopeless Bernie! _

The irascible noble seemed more than accustomed in holding trembling, anxious girls in his embrace. While the recluse's obfuscated mind still tried to accommodate to the situation - Bernie in the arms of a male specimen, a duke at that; her father would surely rejoice upon the news - Felix began to move as stiff as a golem running out of magic. In one frenetic motion, Felix pushed her away, nearly unarming her in the process. It was too much for the petite noble to handle. She wanted to be back in her room and hide under her blanket.

'I-I yield!' However, Felix wasn't inclined to accept her withdrawal. Not today. Instead, the stern swordsman kept on charging, inexorable. With feline grace, he encircled her. Next, he attacked and retreated. A steady repetition to wear her out entirely. Lastly, he knocked the lance out of her trembling hands and pushed her to the ground. His wooden sword was at her throat before her back made contact with the fine sand.

The humiliation seethed in her stomach and threatened to erupt with tremendous force. Bernadetta feared that she would spout out nonsensical stuff. Even so, her voice was still captured somewhere between her throat and her mouth. The reproachful words in her head remained unspoken. Although her knees were still wobbly as pudding, she disregarded Felix's outstretched hand. Instead, she opted for Marianne who looked at Bernadetta with her melancholy, jaded eyes.

'Are you alright? I prayed for you to emerge victoriously, but I fear it just brought you bad luck.' For a moment, the archer felt a pang of guilt for disappointing the other girl. Meanwhile, Marianne wiped off the dust from Bernadetta's uniform and checked for any possible injuries. The margrave's daughter's doubtful smile a mirror of hers.

'As to be expected of a noble, you performed splendidly. Naturally, I expect no less from a student of mine.' Bernadetta nearly shrieked as Lorenz sneaked up on her. The noble granted her a charitable smile and a slight bow of his head. Since Ferdinand acquaintanced them, the two noblemen had declared Bernadetta their mutual project. Despite their affected behaviour, both of them had grown onto the recluse.

Affection won with multiple tea parties, a ton of delicacies, and relentless orders of embroidered handkerchiefs. Unquestionably, the latter found their ways to many ladies as a token of appreciation. They even persuaded Sylvain to train her as well. Therefore, she was the combined project of all three great nations of Fódlan. Or how Dorothea declared with a pathos worthy of a diva: Bernie and the three cavaliers of noblest nobility. How fortunate for Bernie, the girl sighed.

'Your footwork was a demonstration of noble dedication,' Lorenz continued and added with a tone of disapproval. 'If only your opponent would behave more chivalrous and less than the common soldiery.' The reprimand pearled off from the addressed one.

'Better than some bandit teaching her the lesson. There can't always be a knight in shining armour around to save pretty little ladies.' Felix started to place the training weapons back as he turned around, a challenging expression on his face. 'By any means, you can challenge me to a fight. If you win, I will apologize.'

'Fine, if you will allow it Lady Bernadetta, I, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, would like to defend your honour.'  _ Oh no _ , Lorenz meant it. She ought to stop them, but the other girls already clutched her arms and dragged her to the exit. Meanwhile, Lorenz and Felix engaged in a new match, not noticing the girls disappeared.

'Come on today starts the sweet-tooth week! We should hurry up and try out as much as we can.' Annette's cheeks already blossomed in red as she thought of the scrumptious sweets. Bernadetta felt a tug on her skirt and noticed an excited Lysithea that contemplated about delicious desserts.

'Yeah, I would hate missing out on a new sweet just because these fools fight.' Bernadetta agreed whole-heartedly. She tried focusing her mind on how she would wallow in the delectable pudding, confection, and candy. Instead, her attention returned to the pesky swordsman and his infuriating whims.

**********************

Wistfully, the dainty noble savoured the tranquillity of her sanctuary, which Caspar did show her moons ago. Bernadetta had meant retiring to her private chambers, snuggle with her bear, and forget today's horrific events. Alas, a snarky classmate lurking in front of her room had ruined her cuddly appointment. As a result, she had preferred fleeing from the undoubtfully hideous encounter. Felix had to leave at some point, didn't he?

In the end, the archer decided to hideaway. She had taken off boots and stockings to explore the verdant meadow with naked feet before slumping down beneath a tree. Maybe it was a foolish fantasy, but for Bernadetta, it had something mediative to sit under this lemonade sky of her own and watch the sun bed down in a sea of whisked clouds. A glazed orange that dripped with honey and coated the earth with juicy, summery goodness. Soothing warmth sizzled from head to toe through the archer's exhausted body, a tinge of tangy and fizzy layered beneath.

Before long the sun's embrace began to prickle on Bernadetta's sensitive skin, adorning the girl with an ethereal glow, red spots sprinkled on exposed thighs. Despite the slight burning sensation, Bernadetta cherished the atmosphere for it remembered her of days past. A time, when her benign uncle had cradled her in his lap after each tantrum of her father. The whimsical girl could practically hear his voice in the wind, how he called her his little hedgehog. It was a time when Bernadetta explored the gardens of her home and their marvellous mysteries with Yuri. Her craftsy friend would place a flower crown of unequalled beauty on her head. And in return, she had done the same for him.

Sadly, things never tended to stay peaceful. Not for Bernadetta. Just like the flowers in her crown wilted, her happiness faded away. Now, it all seemed more like a blurry dream of a foolish child. First, her father, and now Felix who dared to push her around. Would she be ever free from the vagaries and caprices of others?

In a fit of frustration, Bernadetta clawed her fist into the grass. The angry noble pulled at stems and roots until the satisfying clamour of ripping flowers filled her ears. Daisies, Forget-Me-Knots, and other wildflowers fell victim to her unruly mood. Their bloodlike fluids smeared on her palms as she proceeded to root them out entirely. As engrossed as she was in her destructive act, Bernadetta failed to notice the threat approaching her.

'I think you should look out for a different opponent. You have already shattered this one.' First, the archer wanted to follow her instincts and run from the shadowy silhouette. Though, that would require Bernadetta to be in control of her own body. Much to her plight, the girl wasn't. Second, her treacherous tongue interfered and ran volatile with a swiftness unknown to her disobedient feet.

'I-I- I'm sorry. I do mean no harm. P-Please, don't hurt me.'

'Don't worry. I won't tell Ferdinand nor Lorenz about your violent behaviour towards the weak. Your secret is safe with me, unless...', the warning remained unspoken. Finally, Bernadetta identified who was in front of her, intruding her sanctuary. Felix, the one person she wished to flee. Well, that was only partly true as the recluse hoped to escape most persons. But one had to prioritize for the moment, right?

The swordsman let himself fall near to Bernadetta, only an armlength between them. Far enough to not suggest any improper motives to a random spectator.  _ Close enough to catch Bernie,  _ the girl surmised. His appearance was softer due to the purring bundle of fur comfortably nestled in his arms. And how the cat whiskered and meowed. It was a Gauterion, and like his eponym, it demanded Felix's unrestricted attention. Unlike the Gautier heir, the cat gained its fair share.

'Here, you might want to add it to your spoils of war.' Nonchalantly he offered her a cornflower. It was a lovely one. Multiple inner disk florets encircled the centre of the flower, coloured in a pale purplish. The more prominent ray florets shone in a vivid blue tint. Together they created the shape of a luminous star fallen from its celestial heights.

_ It's a trap. Felix only wants to confuse you. Don't be a fool, Bernie!  _ Nonetheless, her trembling hands reached for the star. To conceal her plum-tinted cheeks, she swept the flower along her face. The delicate petals felt like fingers caressing the curve of her face. Shyly she nuzzled at the blossoms and swallowed its redolence. Slightly sweet, yet vaguely floral with a subtle peppery note.

'You know, about our match...,' Felix started, but hesitated to go on. Bernadetta's eyes grew wide. Did Lorenz manage to do the impossible? Did he win? Her heart fluttered with anticipation, her tongue with words.

'W-wait, did you lose? You don't have to apologize. Not to someone like Bernie.' A lie, a bad one a that.

'Lose? Against Lorenz? He had no chance.' _ How modest _ , Bernadetta thought dryly. Then Felix's expression grew more austere if that was within the realm of possibility. 'I confess that maybe I was unnecessarily harsh. But, one slip and someone could die. I would be annoyed if that happened to someone close.'

'Oh, of course, I'm so useless you're afraid for the good of your friends. Oh, Bernie, you are a mere nuisance to everyone.' Bernadetta's shoulders sagged down. A heart-clenching sorrow filled her chest as someone confirmed what her father told her all her life long.

'That includes you as well. You are now part of the pride. And you are not useless. Not to me.' The recluse could practically feel the hooks clawing into her heart. But what's a girl to do, when the hooks feel so good?

'I might own you an explanation. Are you familiar with the tragedy of Duscur? Today marks the 4th anniversary of the death of a thousand people from Faerghus. My older brother Glenn counts among the massacred nobles.'

Oh, of course. How could you forget, Bernie? The kingdom even held a commemoration, which is why many Blue Lions students missed today's lectures. Bernadetta knew about it, sure, but the empire had tragedies of its own to honour. On the contrary, she could recall her father hosting a party to celebrate the kingdom losing influence. The recluse couldn't help but feel guilty for her father's gratification. Yet for people hailing from Faerghus the day was engraved in their heads, flesh and blood. And Felix, he had lost a brother. And mourning a beloved person was achingly familiar to Bernadetta.

'I-I I am so sorry, Felix, I..., it must have been horrible to lose your brother. It is such a needless death.' The day the notification of her uncle's death arrived at Varley manor still haunted her dreams. Then, she remembered most people of the kingdom were proud of their kin dying for their king's protection. 'Oh, well, what I mean, I-'

'It is ok. I appreciate the sentiment and agree. I would rather have my brother live as a coward than a corpse.' Thereupon, Felix gave her a heart-melting smile overshadowed with grief. The girl wondered if there was anything she could do.

'I can stroke your hair. You can just lay your head in my lap. It's very consolatory', the ludicrous suggestion dripped off her tongue. The timid girl nervously nibbled on her bottom lip as she awaited a snarky remark.  _ Oh no, Bernie, you completely blew it.  _ The swordsman studied her, sentiments carefully hidden below an unfathomable mask of grimness. Just, like the verbally incontinent girl her father always called her, Bernadetta kept on talking. She shielded her eyes with her hand as to not look at the startled man in front of her.

'O-Of course, you don't have to. I-I-I just thought it would help you. Stupid, Bernie. Now, he will -'

Bernadetta's sermon stopped as she felt a tassel-like tuft of loosely hanging threads titillate her thighs. A faint rustling of linen prickled in the girl's ears as something sturdy pressed against her knees. The hem of her skirt pushed upwards and exposed black shorts, wreathed in warmth only a moment later. Then an unfamiliar weight gradually forced her legs apart, causing the recluse to squeeze them tightly together.  _ Breathe, Bernie! Breath!  _ A minor mistake as her lungs breathed in the identical alluring smell when she involuntarily crashed into Felix's embrace a few hours ago.

Gradually, the archer gathered the courage to open one eye, then the other. Each glimpse through the cracks of her fingers revealed more details. Waves of dark blue hair melded with her skirt. Felix chiselled jaw emphasized his martial demeanour. Lips curled into a thin line. There was no more doubt: In Bernadetta's lap rested Fodlan's most recalcitrant swordsman. And the very same stared at her, anticipation glinting in his blazing amber-coloured eyes. A most curious situation indeed.

Indigo hair conquered her thighs and ensnared the hollows of her knees like rampant vines. They vigorously winded around her as Felix moved for a more convenient position, tickling her sensitive skin in the process. Bernadetta carefully tried to free herself, which only led to her being more encaptured than before. It was like being caught in a spider's web. Elegant and mesmerizing from a distance, dangerous if one got trapped up in its fragile threads. The more she struggled, the more she was in trouble. Besides, Felix grew more impatient.

Carefully she took a few strands into her fingers, perceived its delicate texture with the precise eye of an archer inspecting a bowstring. Felix had longer hair than she had envisioned. The loosened band that normally tamed his mane had formed delicate waves in his hair.  _ Just like his father _ , the thought crossed Bernadetta's mind. It was unbelievable silky and sleek, yet thick. Not like her wispy hair at all. The goddess bestowed her gifts inequitable **. **

Bernadetta combed through it as if she would strum a harp. One time, then two times. From the hairline to the ends. Admittedly, it was a soothing little ritual for her. As the recluse nervously risked a glance at the swordsman's face, she was perplexed. No scowl clouded his elegant features.

Indeed, he looked like a cat noshing forbidden creamed milk. Moreover, with the purring feline on his chest, Bernadetta could fantasize Felix was whiskering in pleasure. The comparison suited him either way. It was hard to believe the placid man in her lap was the ever so querulous Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

'This isn't too bad. Go on', the swordsman commanded impatiently. One of his hand reached around her ankle and pinched her gently.

'F-Fine. I'll do my best', and so the girl diligently resumed her work. Meanwhile, Felix's hand remained on her ankle. Once in a while, he leisurely trailed up her ankle till he reached her knee. Then he returned to the beginning. Honestly, Felix acted just like the cat that treaded his chest.

Bernadetta was curious while she asked an innocent question. 'Did your mother often combed your hair?'  _ Stupid Bernie, you screwed it, _ the girl chastised herself as the dreaded frown returned. Felix entire body tensed as he looked at her.

'I don't know. My mother passed away, perished in the same plague as the boar's mother. Since then, it was only my father, Glenn, and me. And my brother only showed me the way of the sword. My father didn't show me anything at all.' The experienced swordsman stated it with a shrug, but she could tell by his taut muscles how the entire topic troubled him.

'That makes you my first one, Lady von Varley. And I am very pleased with your service.' With that, Felix changed the subject. Thus, the purple-haired noble accorded with Felix's wish. Besides, Bernadetta didn't feel entitled to ask any further questions.

'I am honoured Duke Fraldarius. You have such gorgeous hair, not like mine...' It was an undeniable truth known among all girls inside the monastery: Felix Hugo Fraldarius possessed the most coveted hair. Most girls would kill for the chance to comb it. On one occasion, she overheard Annette and Mercedes swooning about the heir's hair. The two girls discussed for nearly an hour how they would style it, what accessories would suit best. Before they knew it, a dozen of girls participated. Herself included.

'I like yours. Like the spines of a baby hedgehog. The one stitched on your case.' Felix plucked one of her resolute, spinelike strands, twirled it around his finger before he placed it back behind her ear. Like magic, her hair stayed obediently in its place. Maybe even this singularly part of hers wasn't able to rebel against the imperious man.

'You are making fun of me. Again,' the petite noble feigned a grim frown. Alas, the recluse never had been good at concealing emotions. And so, a little smile sneaked onto Bernadetta's heated face.

'No. And now go on, Lady Hedgehog,' another order from the dominant duke which Bernadetta complied. The pet name embarrassed and satisfied her at the same time. It was a little intimacy, Felix granted to only a few people.

Both of them remained in silence thereafter. It wasn't long before Bernadetta noted that Felix fell asleep. His head tilted to the side, while his breath gushed over her skin. The swordsman looked innocent, almost childlike. On a whim and because the temptation was more than a girl could stand, Bernadetta pulled at the corner of Felix's mouth. The tension created a goofy smile on his face. An unusual and fascinating sight that made Bernadetta nearly burst into a laughing fit.

Then, she had an idea, a wicked one. The recluse picked up the wildflowers she had unrooted before. Not the cornflower. That one belonged to her alone. Next, she took one section of hair and plaited it together with three flowers. Subsequently, Bernadetta added hair and flowers to her work.

Ultimately, the purple-haired noble completed and admired the composition. A crown of daisies and forget-me-nots that complimented with Felix's azure hair. Bernadetta liked the mixture of pale blue and snow-white flowers. Decent, yet elegant, befitting of the man in her lap.

The distant tinkle of the monastery bells broke the silence and Felix's light slumber. With drowsy eyes, the noble inspected his environment. Somnolent in his movement, he lifted himself off the ground. The cat meowed in protest when it slithered from Felix's chest.

'I have a strategy meeting to attend. I- Thank you. Perhaps we can repeat this?' Bernadetta could only nod in agreement, too shy to inform Felix about the floral adornment in his hair. Twice this day, the swordsman offered her a hand. This time, Bernadetta reached for it. While Felix hurried to his meeting, Bernadetta watched his shape fade away. When would the grim noble realize the wildflowers in his hair?

**********************

Sylvain's cheek stung with a burning ache as the buxom brunette excused herself with a slap. The redhead was sure the woman engraved her handprint on his elegant face for days to come. Well, it wouldn't help to dwell on it too much. Additionally, such things tended to add a roguish charm to the bearer. Naturally, the cavalier would claim it as a battle mark. Sylvain knew the ladies fancied an avid story, and he was willing to present them one.

Ah, and there she was. A pristine beauty to mend the heir's heart. Well, her gait was a bit more robust, but Sylvain was in the mood to tame a shrew one. The beauty's glossy hair flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall with gorgeous flowers woven into it. Its luscious movements practically invited him to grab it, crumple the blossoms, and drink in their scent. However, such things could wait a little bit longer.

It would be a sin, to not show the lady his appreciation for her efforts before. So, as naturally as breathing, he moistened his lips and pressed the tip of his tongue below his teeth. Lips formed into a round shape, the flirtatious youth blew a gush of air through them. A whistle leapt from Sylvain's full lips. With a satisfactory grin, the philanderer observed the girl stopping and turning. Then, the redhead nearly choked on his tongue as the illusory bubble burst.

' _ Felix _ ?' It was more a croaking than his usually silky voice as he looked at his best friend. Who, in return, arched one of his blue eyebrows as if Sylvain was the peculiar one. A few of his classmates turned around to identify the cause of the commotion. Among them were some of his feminine classmates who already gaped at Felix's hairstyle with rapturous admiration.

'You. Your hair. F-Flowers,' goddess, the redhead stuttered like a fool as he gestured at the extraneous floral adornment. Finally, Felix slowly grasped for his hair, but Mercedes stopped him from damaging the intricately braided coiffure.

'Wait, allow me to help you. It would be a shame to ruin such exquisite work', and with that, the pious girl tiptoed towards the bewildered swordsman and fetched some flowers out of Felix's azure locks. Carefully, the healer handed Felix a pair of intertwined wildflowers. The grim noble swivelled the stems between his index and thumb for a while. 

'I see, I should have remained more vigilante.' Then, he casually pinned the flowers behind his ear. Of all people, Hilda offered her help, batting her long lashes at Felix. Sylvain speculated she smelled some blossoming love story like bees do with honey. 'If you want to, I can make a pair of hairclips for you and seal them with some resin. It is possible to include a few crystals too.'

'Yeah, it would make a lovely gift for  _ someone special _ . Let me help too.' Annette chimed in, as passionate as ever. The philanderer had to credit Hilda for retaining a smile while her face went pale. Annette was enthusiastic, but she was the most clumsy person one could find in the monastery. Sylvain expected Felix to lash out at the girls and rebuke their kindness as a waste of his time. Particularly on a day like this. However, his friend perplexed him again.

'Fine,' the taciturn swordsman grumbled as grumpy as one could. Nevertheless, his petulant expression went tender as the girls squealed with delight. Actually, for a ladies man like himself, Sylvain knew that Felix was in trouble. Three ladies snooping around were like lionesses hunting food for their cubs. And they would make sure to distribute their juicy bites among the entire pride.

'Excellent. And while we are at it, why don't you tell us something about that person. It will make it  _ much _ easier to pick some matching jewellery.' Sneaky Mercedes started the pursuit with an innocent smile, already leading Felix to Hilda's room. 

Sylvain could only gasp at the sheer effrontery of not knowing the latest amorous rumours. Least of all, when they involved his closest friend. Therefore, the cavalier followed him and the gaggle of giggling girls with one searing question on his tongue. 

'Who, Felix? Who?' Who possessed the exceptional bravery and courage to weave blossoms into Felix's hair? And who was capable of making the surly noble lower his guard? It was a mystery Sylvain Jose Gautier pledged to unravel.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, everyone enjoyed this story as much as I did writing it. 
> 
> Thank you for taking your precious time to read it.


End file.
